


something you make

by elisela



Series: the trees of vermont [12]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Diaz Week 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24807970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: He hardly looks at the sunrise, at the way the red and gold leaves makes the world look like it’s on fire around them; he has all the beauty he’ll ever need in his family. It reminds him of what he needs to do, the words he’d put down over the past year, painstakingly written and reworked over months, never able to get them close to what his heart feels.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: the trees of vermont [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790356
Comments: 16
Kudos: 269
Collections: Eddie Diaz Week 2020





	something you make

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie Diaz Week day 5: Eddie and his Idiot Husband
> 
> I changed what I was writing for this day about 100 times and then Siri gave us the Vermont series and ... I changed what I was writing again. You should probably read [beauty in the small things first](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756628).

The room is dark when Buck rouses him with a kiss, pressed softly against Eddie’s forehead, his body warm under the sheets, lips trailing down the curve of Eddie’s cheek. They sleep tangled together, knees and elbows everywhere, fingers pressed against firm expanses of skin. Eddie’s head rests on Buck’s shoulder most nights; it’s still there now, Buck’s arms pulling at his body until Eddie’s sprawled out on top of him, forearms resting on either side of his head. 

Buck’s mouth is on his neck, moving slow with desire, his bottom lip dragging against all the most sensitive parts of Eddie’s jaw. “I want,” he starts, hips lifting slightly as he wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist and pulls him close, “please, Eddie.”

“S’early,” Eddie mumbles, but tilts his jaw so Buck’s lips can continue their wandering, moves his arm so he can run his fingers through Buck’s hair.

“Dreamed of you,” Buck whispers, pulling him down into a kiss.

He’s half asleep and drifting, but something in Buck’s voice, a vulnerability he doesn’t often express, makes him blink, try to focus. “M’okay,” he says, tugging gently on Buck’s hair, opening his mouth to kiss him deeper. “But if you need—”

He’s on his back before he can finish his sentence, Buck’s weight settled on top of him, heavy and warm, pushing him down into the mattress. He does drift, then, floats away on half-remembered dreams and whispered words of affection as Buck’s fingers push into him, as his breathing labors against Eddie’s ear when he rocks into him, unhurried, his hands tracing every part of Eddie’s body that he’d mapped out long ago. Eddie kisses him softly, repeatedly, has to catch his breath against Buck’s mouth when he reaches in between them. He mouths a path from his lips down his jaw, up to his ear where he whispers “tell me,” and feels Buck shivers against him.

“I love you,” Buck breathes out, stroking him, his hips losing their rhythm when Eddie pushes up against him. “I _love_ you, Eddie, I want to forever, _please_ —let me,” he says, whispering into Eddie’s ear. Eddie arches up into his grip, kisses him until he can’t breathe, until the pace Buck sets accelerates, leaving him gasping into Buck’s mouth, pulling Buck into him after he comes, sensitive and overwhelmed as Buck fucks him through it until he follows. 

It’s still dark after their breathing has evened out and Buck rolls off of him and out of bed. “Shower with me,” he says, tugging on Eddie’s arm, and Eddie allows himself to be pulled out of bed and into the bathroom, where Buck wraps him up in his arms while the water warms. 

Buck is shaking. 

Eddie blinks the sleep out of his eyes, rubs his hands up and down Buck’s back. “You’re okay,” he says quietly. He holds out one hand and sticks it under the spray, guides Buck underneath when it’s hot enough. “I know I didn’t do much just now but I didn’t think I was that bad,” he teases, and Buck lets out a startled laugh.

“Just a dream,” he says by way of explanation, winding his arms around Eddie’s neck and dropping his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. 

“We usually call those nightmares,” Eddie says, reaching for the shampoo and getting his hands into Buck’s hair. “Did it help?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, his voice muffled by skin and water. “I needed to feel you, Eds—I know you weren’t that into it so—”

“Hey, no,” Eddie says, digging his fingers into Buck’s scalp, tries to show him how much he loves him. “Just because I was tired doesn’t mean I wasn’t into it.” Underneath the water, he feels Buck’s lips on his shoulder, his collarbone, the hollow of his neck. “It felt good,” he says.

Buck nods. “I love you,” he says quietly. 

_I want to forever, please, let me,_ Eddie thinks, his breath catching when he remembers the words. “I love you, too,” he says. “Let’s take Chris out for sunrise. You keep telling us how the trees glow, let’s go see it. We can take him to Bobby’s after for breakfast.”

If Buck is surprised by Eddie’s impulsivity, he doesn’t show it. They finish up, washing each other with tenderness, with gentle hands, exchanging kisses as the water slowly gets colder. Buck may have been the one to lead earlier, but he’s quiet now as Eddie pulls him back into the bedroom. They dress in silence, hands trailing over each other whenever they’re near: Buck’s arms wrapping around him from behind while he kisses the back of Eddie’s neck, fingers sweeping along the waistband of his jeans, Eddie’s hand circling Buck’s wrist as he buttons his flannel and pulling him in, smudging his fingers across the words— _his_ words—on Buck’s chest. He’s always been more reserved with his emotions, always held parts of himself back, whether out of fear or discomfort, but Buck—Buck is so different. Eddie doesn’t use words often, not spoken, but he can’t help but touch; he revels in it, uses it to ground himself, to reassure, touches to show Buck how much he means to him. 

It takes them longer than usual to get dressed, because now that Eddie’s thinking about forever, he can’t _stop_ touching Buck. He pulls him down onto the bed to kiss him, presses their bodies together, knows that Buck can speak this language with him. When they finally break apart, Buck’s lips are red and full in the soft light of their bedroom, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright. 

“You get the kid,” Eddie says, leaning in for one more kiss, “I’ll grab some blankets.” There are blankets everywhere in the house—since the avalanche, he doesn’t think Buck has been able to pass one in a store without buying it—but Buck’s favorites are stashed in the library, piled on the armchair Christopher likes to sit in with him. He takes an armful of them, hesitates by his desk and pockets an envelope he’s had hidden in there for the last year, and makes his way to the truck. 

Dawn is just breaking as Eddie drives up the mountain, following Buck’s directions for where to turn off the highway and carries Chris a short way through the trees to a small clearing. He holds his son tighter as Buck spreads a blanket on the ground, breathing in his familiar smell, longing for the days when Chris allowed him to do this more often. They settle around Chris on the blanket like two parentheses, arms crossed over him to hold onto each other, fingers creeping into jacket pockets as their breath intermingles in the cold September morning. Eddie adjusts the blankets on top of them, a barrier against the chill, Chris’ face pressed into his chest.

He hardly looks at the sunrise, at the way the red and gold leaves makes the world look like it’s on fire around them; he has all the beauty he’ll ever need in his family. It reminds him of what he needs to do, the words he’d put down over the past year, painstakingly written and reworked over months, never able to get them close to what his heart feels.

_You are dawn; you are a light that casts not harsh shadows but a glow that softens everything you gaze upon, that warms my skin and sinks deep inside me, turning everything you touch golden._

“I have something for you,” he says quietly, hands steady as he pulls the envelope from his pocket and holds it out to Buck. He remembers shaking as it wrote it, raw from the terror that had come from almost losing him, pouring his soul out one more time, but time has soothed the ache he had felt. They have always been reaching towards this moment.

_You loved me before you knew me; you read the topography of my soul and held all the shattered pieces, you made a mosaic of all my broken parts, you put me back together with more beauty than was possible before._

He watches Buck’s face as he reads it, the way he bites his lips, the flush that comes to his cheeks; Eddie’s heart has never been able to hold all the love he has for his son and Buck, and being here, with them, while he tries to make Buck understand that is—freeing. Buck had accepted his trauma, his rough edges, his broken parts before he had even met Eddie, and Eddie wants nothing more than to share everything else with him.

“Buck,” he says, when their eyes meet again, “you asked me for forever this morning and I want that, too. Please—marry me.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ [hearteyesforbuck](https://hearteyesforbuck.tumblr.com).


End file.
